“open wide.,” the first video from Denitia and Sene’s second full-length album, oscillates from oversaturated white daylight to bleary nighttime shots of the group. Shot by Brian Marc (Sene’s an alias) that filmic quality carries over to the Brooklyn duo’s music, which renders spare, low-lit R&B with its elements bleeding together or blurring just out of focus. Three years have passed since their debut introduced their fuzzed-out trip-hop/soul, and it wasn’t easy to sort what they were up to at the time. love and noir. continues along the future R&B template they introduced on His and Hers., more often than not favoring a simmering, slow-moving pulse that falls closer to the pace of a resting heartbeat than almost anything else on modern R&B radio.
That deliberate pacing gives opener “favorite.” a gentle feel, weary but calmed, befitting the song’s theme, when the other half has returned from a long day’s work. Synth brass bubbles up and finger snaps accentuate the bass throb, as Denitia admits: “My favorite part of the day is when I see your face/I know it sounds cliché/But when I see your face/Everything’s okay.” But even though the lyrics acknowledge their own triteness, they don’t quite escape it.
The album explores love, doubt, and the pins and needles in between, territory that R&B has traversed for decades. But despite delving into the shadows of love, the duo too often stretch their imagery to the breaking point. “strung.” twines a halting beat and deep bass wobble to a prickly guitar lick that get layered to the point where it approaches shoegaze-thick fuzz. A deft bit pizzicato strings blips up midway through, but listen to the lines about being “torn at the seam” and said strings belabor the metaphor running through the track, which asks: “Whose strings have you strung?”
Denitia and Sene are adept when it comes to establishing a seductive mood for the length of a song, but over the course of this twelve-track album, it turns sluggish. “roulette.” warns “don’t try this at home” against a muffled kick that never rises above the haze and long stretches of the album feel lethargic. “open wide.” remains the highlight of the album, achieving a balance between ’80s anthemic balladry and ’00s R&B noisiness.
Only as the album draws to a close do the slow tempos gain traction and push forward the songs. “alone.” finds Denitia toggling between defiant and forlorn against a slippery breakbeat and pleading guitar. “How far can we go?” the duo harmonize on closer “too far.”, Denitia’s voice reaching a poignant note;. But just as the mood settles in, the beat fades away before the three-minute mark and casual chatter takes over, like a door opening from a darkened studio back into daylight.
